The Streets

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It was a rainy night in the streets of Malibu, California. Inside a sandwich shop, four young men were playing. They had matching red buttoned shirts and the bass drum read, "The Monkees". This was their first gig in weeks. The manager walked out and handed them some money.

"Well, Mike, how much did we get?" asked the one with the fro.

"Yeah, Mike, how much did we get?" asked another.

"We got 120 bucks, man!" Mike exclaimed.

"Are you serious?" asked the shorter one.

"Yeah, Davy, I'm serious. Why wouldn't I be? Now go help Micky with his drums," Mike said. The other asked Mike, "We actually did get $120?"

"Yes, Pete, now come on. The shop is closing and we need to get home," Mike replied.

"Help! Help!" a young woman cried, limping down alleyway to the street. She looked about eighteen or nineteen with long, brown hair and a guitar case on her back."Help!" Behind her, were two muscular gangsters with knives in their pockets and guns out, chasing the woman. One of the men jumped for her, but missed her body. As he fell, he grabbed onto the girl's right heel and pulled her leg down with a snap. The other one caught up, and they cornered her against a brick wall. Both of her legs were fractured, and would only get worse.

One said, "This is the last time you run away from the big boss. Now you'll be gone for good."

They both laughed and began punching and beating the girl. One of them then kicked her while the other pulled out his knife.

"Gone for good," he laughed. The knife tore the fabric as it was getting ready to pierce her skin.

The group of 4 boys walked out of the sandwich shop. "So, when are we going to play here again?" asked Micky.

"The manager said every Monday and Thursday," Mike replied.

There was screaming and loud sounds of slapping and kicking.

"Lads, you hear that?" Davy asked. They all listened. They put their instruments in their car and ran, trying to find where the screaming was coming from.

Meanwhile, the knife was digging deeper into her skin. The rain was soothing to her bruises and cuts. Her vision was getting blurrier and she was shivering. She could hear more footsteps coming.

"Let's split!" the gangsters said as the Big Boss's car sped by. He pulled the knife out, wiped it on his jacket, ran to the car's open door, and it sped off. The footsteps grew louder and stopped.

"Oh my gosh," one said. Another held her up and checked her pulse.

"Mike! Mike! She's still alive," Davy said.

Mike yelled," Peter, go call an ambulance, now!" Then, she heard footsteps running farther and farther away and everything faded out.


Author's note 5/13/18 - I'm just going through to fix everthing because I wrote this when I was thirteen and it's cringy reading it now. 


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